


Of Exo-Politics and Starlights//ON HOLD

by hotspaceletsgo



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: Alien Culture, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, M/M, Outer Space
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23584240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotspaceletsgo/pseuds/hotspaceletsgo
Summary: The Milky Way has been finally explored enough. Contact with other races has been made. Earthers are now a step further towards exploring a whole new galaxy, and commander Wolstenholme is the lead character behind the important missions for discovering the space around the Earth.What if there's something further behind the want to discover other galaxies than the curiosity and the need to help other races?
Relationships: Dom Howard/Chris Wolstenholme, Matt Bellamy/Dom Howard, Tom Kirk/Chris Wolstenholme
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After gambling with non-aus for so long, I decided to test my knowledge in the field of astronomy and created a fictional sci-fi world for our boys. If you're afraid of the lack of Dom and Matt, don't worry, they will appear later in the story, though not in the form you'd expect... ;) 
> 
> But that's it for foreshadowing and rambling about myself. I really hope you enjoy this story! Any feedback is totally welcome, I'd love for the story to be as fun to read as possible (though beginnings are always a bit slow, if you could excuse that!).

The ship landed back on the platform. Surrounded by bystanders, men in lab coats and journalists, the vehicle let out clouds of steam, making the atmosphere more mysterious (and a bit pompous to the crew’s liking).  
  
They all felt the anticipation growing inside, as the spaceship wobbled upon its landing, seeing the excited faces of people that came only to see the source of the scientific success.  
  
He looked at his crew. The nervousness was radiating off of their faces, but their eyes were sparkling with relief and excitement.  
  
They were finally back on their home planet.  
  
“Corporal Kirk, lift the platform up and open the door.” His eyes scanned the steady hand of his corporal reaching for the lever of the hydraulic door. He took a deep breath, straightened his back and beckoned to his fellow personnel. “It’s time to step on familiar grounds.”  
  
He heard a faint gasp, but he couldn’t react fast enough before the door was put in the works and exposed the members of the spaceship to a bright, calm day on Earth.   
  
He seriously missed the chilly coasts of Devon, as dirty as the military area around was.   
  
Immediately upon stepping off the platform he was greeted by journalists, citizens that heard the flotilla was coming back, random town personnel...  
  
He certainly was glad he was used to it.  
  
His crew was a bit taken aback, since this was their first mission, except for corporal Kirk, but they didn’t seem not to enjoy the attention, rather the opposite. They bathed in the appraisal, and he didn’t blame them.   
  
If his first mission wasn’t a life-threatening operation, he would’ve been just as delighted to be the centre of the attention.   
  
His first lieutenant, Anderson, discreetly threw glances in his direction, until he was finally noticed. With a wave of his hand, showing the symbol of victory towards the not so small audience, his crew knew they were dismissed until another mission arose.   
  
The piercing hazel eyes watched the happy faces of his team, how they reunited with families, friends, loved ones. Then some of them walked nonchalantly towards the journalists, and almost pretentiously started their endless ramble on about the mission.   
  
In other cases he would’ve scolded the personnel for being too cocky and not paying attention to real events, but since this was a revolutionary contribution to the astronomy field and the means of transport through space, he couldn’t do anything but observe and listen to eager gasps of the reporters.  
  
“Commander Wolstenholme, a word,” he heard a booming voice of the head of the research team that had sent him and his crew on the mission.   
  
He untangled his arms from behind his lower back and met with doctor Drake. They shook hands. “It’s great to have you all back with no injuries.”  
  
“I think that private Johansson is gonna be a bit shook for a few days.” Upon the discovery Lance furrowed his eyebrows. “He tripped over a heating pipe and as he tried to grab for something to hold on to, his arm got stuck in one of the rubbish bins.”  
  
“The one for mechanical parts or the one for general waste?”  
  
“Whatever type has a grinder inside,” he answered sarcastically. “He nearly had his hand decapitated.”   
  
“Glad that it was only nearly.” The scientist looked at commander Wolstenholme expectedly. “Well, where is the paperwork?”  
  
“It’s all inside on the motherboard.”   
  
“Why didn’t you bring it here?”  
  
“Because I know you’ll send your colleagues inside the ship anyway. It’s all written down, noted and signed by me. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he said, trying to hide the smirk that was slowly creeping on his face. He knew doctor Drake couldn’t say a word to him because he’d been reporting everything straight to the ground control, and if there was any bureau work, he was sure that corporal Kirk had done it right when it was due. After a month he was finally free, walking on the face of the Earth he longed for. Nothing could ruin it now.  
  
The hangar where each of them had stayed before their departure was empty since his crew was still out there talking and it didn’t look like they were going to leave any time soon. He could reminisce in quiet for a few minutes, just to gather his things, change from his uniform to normal clothes and reflect on the strange smoothness of this mission.   
  
The automatic door opened upon his arrival. He opened his locker and grabbed a duffle bag with his belongings, locking it back after he put the bag on a bench behind him. He undid his weapon belt and carefully placed it next to the sack, then he unzipped his partially metallic jacket, leaving a thin electronic plate taped on his chest in its place, and his equally armoured trousers followed instantly.  
  
Neatly he folded the uniform, put it in the bag and was prepared to finally dress into something more comfortable, but he saw parts of his reflection in a glass pane that was covering a huge server which provided electricity to this part of the hangar.   
  
After thirty-something days without shaving and constant breaking of the sleeping schedule, his face looked gruff and in dire need of tending to. There were marks on his cheeks from several accidents on the spaceship, and he lost his form, his torso had grown a bit weaker, as he alone felt it, but it was probably just his imagination thanks to not being able to take off his uniform for so long.   
  
He remembered his task from before and he pulled out a basic black T-shirt, blue jeans and a leather jacket. As much as he loved wearing his metallic uniform that had helped him a lot in his missions, his ordinary clothes won over everything else.   
  
“You really aren’t a crowd type, commander.”  
  
He jumped at the sudden voice, not expecting anyone to emerge from outside soon. He turned his head and saw a tall raven-haired man leaning on the doorframe, his arms crossed on his chest, still dressed in his uniform.  
  
“I don’t mind crowds themselves, it depends on what kind of people there are in the crowd.” His army boots with reinforced heels were replaced with light trainers, and he watched as corporal Kirk made his way towards him. “How long have you been standing there?”  
  
The corporal chuckled. “Long enough to learn you’re out of shape.”  
  
“Speak for yourself, Kirk. Your hair’s disgustingly long now.”   
  
They fell into a comfortable silence, Kirk watching him clean his locker, packing his tracking device and telecommunication chip in the side pockets. “I almost forgot why I was here. Wanna join me for a victory pint tonight?”  
  
“No offence, corporal, I’d love to, but being a month nonstop with some people from the crew wore me out a bit.” He lifted the bag and was on his way out, when Kirk joined him for a second to add to his proposal.  
  
“It would be just you and me. We lead the group to victory, and I think we deserve something to celebrate the success with, don’t you think?” The subtle wink didn’t escape his gaze.   
  
“If those are the conditions, then sure.”  
  
•~  
  
He arrived at his empty home, wondering how the facial recognition at the door still let him in in the state he was. The technology developed over the years had him wondering sometimes, but he welcomed every invention that could help him achieve the missions he took up.  
  
“Welcome home, mister Wolstenholme.” The plate on his chest started glowing green as an indication of familiar surroundings, and a female, electronic voice greeted him in a simulated cheery voice.  
  
He mumbled something incoherent, and as always, he ignored the photos on the wall on his way to the bedroom.  
  
After such a long time he wasn’t able to bear a look at the stills from his wedding day, nor could he remove the frames for nostalgic purposes.  
  
His mind was running slow, he still needed to reboot, relax for a couple of days, and the more he thought about his promise to Kirk that he’d meet up with him, the more he felt like calling it off. But he also felt like he needed some company and the corporal seemed like a reliable man that knew how to enjoy himself – something he couldn’t grasp just yet.  
  
He changed clothes once again, examining his wardrobe to choose something appropriate for a meeting with a member of his crew. He felt like wearing a white button-up – the only white coloured article he owned – along with black trousers. Why he felt the wanton to change he didn’t know, but something about that wink captivated him.  
  
The electronic plate on his chest bothered him a bit, and he thought about taking it off, despite the action being borderline illegal. “Then again, you never know when you’ll need it,” he told himself and finally left for the transportation centre.  
  
•~  
  
Phobos was a strange place. It was the inner one of the two moons of Mars, just a bit less hostile and the land there was way less discovered. The only place known to the human race was a pub at the western part of the moon that had been established as an agreement between Phobes and Venusians, but later became an intergalactic club. Though he heard that Earthers were frowned at upon seeing there.  
  
What he knew about the moon was nearly not enough, and that scared him a bit. Guess it served its name.  
  
His only time there was approximately ten years prior on one of his first scavenge missions. A space probe that had been coursing around the surface found a new species of plants that could be potentially used to heal illnesses the inhabitants of Mars suffered from, and that could improve the relationship between Earthers and Martians. He was eighteen, fresh out of training, and as the most competent from his year, he was chosen to assist on the mission. Turns out that the place hadn’t been discovered at all for the number of dangerous invertebrates trying to poison the crew with an unknown kind of venom and other plants that could grow out stems at any time thanks to harsh conditions. After that horrendous experience, Earth experts concluded that Phobos was going to serve Earthers as place for entertainment only.  
  
That’s why he was wondering why corporal Kirk had chosen to meet up there.


	2. Chapter 2

He stood still, looking around the strange place in front of the club. The sky was a dark shade of purple and he could see pink clouds rendering in the distance. He didn’t remember the moon looking so outrun-ish, but it comforted his senses a bit.

His feet docked in running trainers he used to use for his missions took a step out of the transportation booth and immediately he was met with a strange, smoky smell. The plate on his chest was glowing bright yellow, indicating that he was in an undiscovered area, but he “didn’t need to leave”, as the manual to the plate said.

The need to back away from this place was strong, but before he could return to the booth, it was filled with new creatures who certainly didn’t look too friendly and wouldn’t let the commander inside. He faced the building again.

Definitely a sign to continue.

It was only a few steps to the club. Behind him, the other races started to lazily flock forward and he followed, as much as he dreaded what awaited him inside. The door opened and he slid in.

The first thing he noticed was how tall the inside of the club actually was. Outside, it seemed like only about a hundred people could fit in, but it was bigger on the inside. Much, much bigger, so the other races could walk around freely without bumping their heads to the doorframes, or even the ceiling.

As it had been discovered, Earthers were the smallest race in the universe. The commander could tell stories about how shaken he’d been the first time he saw an ordinary Venusian who was two heads taller, and he considered himself above the average height. But now he was surrounded with Phobes, Martians and whatnot, and they were twice his size with their judgemental gazes turned to him.

His mind was now in a searching mode. Current objective: find Kirk as soon as possible.

As easy as it was to say, tall seats and alcohol bottles on the floor weren’t his biggest obstacles. Hell, he didn’t even know where to search. The walls were as dark as the sky and no lights were switched on, since a lot of races had way more sensitive rod cells in their eyes and didn’t need almost any light source. He tried to avoid a collision with other creatures, though it was fairly hard. A lot of them had drunk an insane amount of alcohol, he guessed, seeing as a group of Phobes were barely standing around what looked like an Earther and it wasn’t in a hostile manner.

He stopped in his tracks.

_Wait._

_That was Kirk._

That Earther surrounded by one of the most dangerous intergalactic races was his corporal.

Suddenly, Kirk’s head turned towards him and they locked gazes. That smug smile that never left his face grew bigger. He turned his attention back to the Phobes, but only to tell them he had some business to do which earned him a few appraising noises and he marched proudly to the commander.

“I can’t believe what I’m seeing, corporal,” he addressed the situation he just witnessed. Kirk took him by the shoulders and led him deeper into the club.

“I’ll explain later if you’re interested, but first, let me get you a drink. The victory drink you deserve.”

Before he could react, the corporal was calling for the bartender and two _foxes_. The alien tapper gave them a subtle look, as if they were about to cause trouble, but nodded and sent them two pints of a blue liquid.

He eyed the drink suspiciously. “What exactly are _foxes_?”

“You don’t wanna find out on your own?” Kirk said. When he saw the commander’s eyebrows furrow, he sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine. Let’s go find a table and just enjoy the place. I’ll tell you.”

He noticed the strange aura surrounding the corporal who was way too energetic for his normal “just a bit more positive” attitude.

No doubt Kirk had drunk some before he arrived and was just a bit less tolerant to alcohol made outside the Earth. Plus the whole club was just a bit too alternative for his liking, but the corporal seemed to bathe in that.

As he was being dragged again through the club to a more secure and quiet place, he noticed the other man’s clothes. A tight, black shirt with two pink stripes on each bicep, shade so bright it could blind a man. Black trousers that were ripped on the knees. And the shoes he wore to his missions.

Was this really considered _casual_...?

Deep in unnecessary thoughts, his shoulder collided with another body.

The creature was a Phobe, and it didn’t look like it was pleased with his clumsiness. The deep growl didn’t go unnoticed.

For the second time that night he was glad to have Kirk at his side when he gently pushed commander aside and stared at the Phobe, as if to warn the creature not to mess with them both.

And then the corporal said something he couldn’t understand, but the alien definitely could. Its eyes coloured purple, let out a sound similar to squeaky door and retreated somewhere it was safe.

Kirk kept his eyebrows low and grabbed him again, taking hold of his hand instead, and finally sat down at a particularly quiet place.

So many questions swam around his head. The usually laid-back, funny and responsible corporal was now intimidating and seemed he could pick a fight with anyone any second.

“Corporal Kirk, what was-“

“First, let’s get the pleasantries out of the way. I’m Tom.”

He was taken aback by the slight sass in Tom’s voice. But it also felt strangely good. Different. Everybody held him as _commander Wolstenholme_ and that was it. No name exchanges, no friendships after the missions were over.

_Tom was different._

As cautious as his personality was, a small smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Christopher.”

“Great, we’re on first base now. Let’s drink to that!”

He was hesitant looking at the blue-ish liquid. It was of a higher viscosity, it looked almost solid. And the drink had no smell.

And even then, Tom was fast to sink it down to the last drop.

His eyes shot towards the corporal, the look there doubtful. “What’s this?”

“It’s a drink called _fox_. It’s a strong one, but it tastes heavenly.” He took a deep breath, as if savouring the drink again. “It’s called _fox_ because it’s blue like the fur of Uranian foxes. Come on, try it!”

There was a pang of competitiveness in Chris’ mind and he gulped the liquid down.

A sweet taste clouded his mouth. It felt like he was eating straight sugar cubes, the consistency not being that far from the liquid. But the drink tasted after exotic fruit, guava and watermelon, and it lingered on his tongue even after the liquid seeped into his throat. A strange warmth started spreading to his fingertips, he could feel every place on his body where the shirt touched his skin, as if the drink sharpened his sensory neurons. He even felt the subtle glances Tom was throwing him.

Suddenly, his vision started to clear up, the darkness seemed to fade away and he could see all the other creatures in the club as bright as if it were a day.

And as suddenly as it all started, the effects faded with wave of a hand, and Chris was once again surrounded by the club’s darkness, his clothes didn’t feel like so tight anymore and on the opposite of him was sat this mysterious man he called his corporal.

But the sweetness was still there, his throat still burnt, as if to remind him that it wasn’t just a hallucination.

“What… what was that?” Chris croaked weakly. He blinked a few times, watching Kirk squirm with laughter.

“That’s what _fox_ does to you; sharpens your senses for a short period of time. Feels like a real trip,” Tom said, the laughter slowly dying out.

Chris swallowed heavily, trying to get the taste from his mouth. He wasn’t really successful. “What I wanna know is how you found out about the drink.”

“Got taken the piss out of too.” The corporal left his place and motioned for Chris to move, sitting next to him. “On one of my missions I turned twenty-three, so I could finally legally drink anywhere in the galaxy. My captain got me a whole bottle of it and told me it was a Uranian water that helps you balance your vitamin levels, or some bullshit like that. And stupid me believed her, so you can imagine what happened after I chugged half of the bottle because I ‘needed to stay healthy at all times’.” He made air quotes and slammed his hands on his face.

Chris found it all hilarious. The majority of captains were serious figures, giving out commands and lectures, but he could imagine some befriending their crew and joking around, while still being a quality leader of the team.

He wished he could become someone like that.

“Your captain didn’t warn you not to drink it in big doses?” he smiled.

“Absolutely not. When I tell you I wasn’t able to function for the whole day, I’m talking about laying in my bunk while seeing beyond all questions about the meaning of life and babbling about it.”

He giggled and started again. “And shagging while being _fox_ drunk is unbelievable.”

“Wait, _what_?!”

“I’m just messing with you, none of that happened,” Tom reacted and his right arm extended to loom over Chris’ unfinished drink. “Are you gonna down it?”

Maybe it was the spark in his eyes, maybe it was the witty approach he was taking with the commander. Whatever it was, Chris felt good around this man, _great_ even.

His hand made a vague gesture. “Knock yourself out.” He didn’t like the sugary taste anyway.

Kirk was quick to grab the glass, drinking _fox_ to the bottom. “Sorry, can’t help myself. Think I grew addicted to this shit when I drank about four times more than advised. It’s quite unique cause unlike any other alcohol this one’s sweet and I like that.”

“Guess you’re a sweet guy.” Chris couldn’t stop his mouth at the right time.

A few silent seconds passed between them, Kirk trying to keep the eye contact while Chris was the one to try to avoid it. If the boring personality didn’t deter the corporal, this sentence was definitely the one.

But then he saw Tom flash that big grin of his he grew fond of and he let out a muffled chuckle. “Guess I am,” he said, aimlessly pointing around their table. “So you’re finally off the leash.”

Well, he heard _that_ sentence before.

He decided to be honest. “I’m just nervous. It’s the unknown territory.”

“No, it’s the _plate_ you’re wearing,” Tom snorted. “Paranoia and stuff gets to your head.”

“You’re getting a bit too ahead of yourself, corporal.” The warning in his tone was evident.

“You love rules way too much for your own good,” Tom threw back.

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

As if Tom was searching for something in Chris’ eyes, he squinted his lids, head leaning to the side, his arm partially propped on the headrest of their seat. He scanned the commander’s face quickly, before getting hold of his bicep, leading them both out of their box.

The glasses were left abandoned on the table. Neither of them were returning anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still a bit slow (with the plot _and_ the updates), I'm sorry! But we're finally nearing the actual plot; this is all but a preamble... ;) 
> 
> Every view and comment is appreciated. Thank you so much for reading ❤


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